


Change Of Spark

by Kuukkeli



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Character Death, Fluff, M/M, Mild Gore, Resurrection, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuukkeli/pseuds/Kuukkeli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That moment when Wing and Drift realise how much they care for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change Of Spark

**Author's Note:**

> [Music that I thought of playing in the background at one scene.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGkuJlEZy04&list=PL01430065947B667E&index=40)

“Do you really think they’ll come looking for you? For such a waste of air and metal? Please, don’t make me laugh!” Bolg guffawed and slammed Drift with her hammer, sending the mech skidding nice few feet across the ground. The large alien glanced at Braid who nodded and she strode to the broken mech, standing over the damaged husk.

Drift had a hunch it would turn out like this but not _this_ bad. His bargain hadn’t gone according to his plan and now he was cursing his luck.

As Bolg was about to give the finishing blow, Braid raised one of his hands. “Wait, Bolg. I have an idea...” he purred, an ugly smirk revealing his sharp, uneven teeth.

Drift watched as the hammer was reluctantly lowered and Bolg stepped aside, his vision glitching and body hurting beyond imaginable. Braid’s face appeared above him, still smirking. “Go on. Give your little guardian a message.”

The bi-colored mech remained silent and turned his broken optics on the sky that stretched over him, shades of orange and purple making the situation a tad more bearable. Perhaps he could try that meditation Wing had taught him to get his mind away from the situation and the pain.

\----

“And what are we supposed to do then? Send him away?” Wing asked during his “conversation” with Dai Atlas. There were others in the hall but they rarely joined but merely observed from afar. Axe was an exception, though.

“If I may say a word? I think it’d be the best we keep him here for the time being – for both our and his own safety. If not for longer then at least until he’s made up his mind about his future”, the dark mech suggested, addressing Dai Atlas directly.

Just when the triple-changer was about to open his mouth for another argument, Wing’s comm. link pinged and he hushed the room by lifting his hand as he recognized the ID number as Drift’s.

“Drift? Where are you? I’m so worried.”

_::Hhhhh...::_

“Drift...?”

_::Hhhheelp... mmmmeee...::_

“Drift?!”

The comm. link fell dead, only static crackling through. The white mech dashed out of the meeting hall and transformed in the lobby. His engines screeched as he hurried to the doors.

“Clear the path!” he yelled and slipped between the closing doors, leaving stunned visitors behind.

Dai Atlas spun around and left the meeting room, too. “Gather our best warriors and Redline. We’re going after Wing”, he ordered Axe while entering the command room. Axe bowed and went to fulfil Dai Atlas’ order.

\----

“You know, Decepticon, I really would’ve preferred you to accept my offer rather than turn your back on me”, Braid said as he leaned over Drift, driving the heel of his foot to the mech’s stomach, earning a gurgling, choked groan. “And now you may wonder how do I know? Well, let’s just say I’m good at reading people”, the alien chuckled and straightened himself as he heard distant whine and roar of approaching engines.

“Ah. Seems like we’ll have company soon.”

Wing... Drift could recognize that steady, screeching sound of Wing’s engines anywhere.

It didn’t take long for Wing to touch down ever so gracefully, though his field flaring and pulsing with suppressed rage. Dai Atlas, Axe and fifty warriors weren’t far behind and within a minute arrived at the scene.

Wing’s gaze fell from the Slavers to the mech lying on the ground motionless and barely alive. Without a word he drew his twin blades and lit them, the buzz filling the still air.

“Wing...” Dai Atlas warned, stepping forth.

“Nice to meet you, oh honorable Dai Atlas”, Braid mock-bowed, loath seeping in his voice. “I guess you came to claim him back”, he added and nudged Drift with his foot.

“Do not touch him”, Wing growled, his body ready to lunge at the despicable creature.

Braid’s yellow eyes turned to the white jet, measuring him up and down. “Aren’t you a feisty one. As much as I’d like to stay and have a chat with you, unfortunately I’m needed elsewhere.” With that, he held out his right hand and his spear was handed to him.

Everything happened so quickly. Wing hadn’t taken it to account that Braid would do such a thing in front of fifty skilled warriors. But had, nonetheless.

Drift jerked as the spear impaled him through his chest, right below his spark chamber – not enough to snuff out his spark right away but to leave it to leak out slowly, thus ensuring a slow and excruciating demise.

“NO!”

Braid yanked his spear out of Drift’s chest and cackled, transporting himself and his subordinates back to his ship. Wing ran to Drift and dropped to his knees, immediately bringing his hands to cover and prevent the fluctuating spark from leaking out.

“Damn it! Stop leaking! Stop!” he cried out, his attempts in vain.

Redline rushed on the other side of Drift, swatting Wing’s hands away in order to do some field repair. “Talk to him. Make him stay with us”, the medic barked as his hands went to work to save this poor spark.

“Drift? Drift, can you hear me? Wing here. Come on, stay with me”, the white mech crooned hopefully, tears already welling to his optics to blur his vision, his hands cradling Drift’s head, even though sadness edged his features and field. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Floods of energon gushed out through Drift’s vents, his body struggling to keep itself functional. It became clear quickly that Drift wouldn’t make it – not at this rate. And indeed, eventually the grounder’s systems died one by one and the final ex-vent escaped his body, the fiery glow in his optics fading out into a dull blue/gray.

“Drift? No... No, no, no, NO! Drift!” the jet screamed, his hands gripping Drift tighter as he hunched over the lifeless body.

Redline withdrew his hands out from Drift’s chamber and sat back on his heels, ducking his head in shame. He closed the optic shutters for modesty reasons – there was no reason to add to Wing’s sorrow by forcing him to look into empty optics. Wing’s desperate begs for Drift to come back were heard across the barren plain, his crying shattering everyone’s spark, even Dai Atlas’. No matter how much the large mech hated the Decepticon, he couldn’t bear to see Wing crying.

“Move”, he ordered Wing softly and drew the Great Sword from its sheath on Wing’s back. With no strength to fight Dai Atlas left in Wing, he moved aside and followed the triple-changer placing his Great Sword on Drift’s chest, the crystal right over the hole. “Wrap your hand around the hilt”, was the next command from Dai Atlas.

And Wing did so, sorrow crushing his spark even more. But the moment his hand closed around the hilt, familiar and safe to the touch, the crystal began to glow bright blue, almost white and he felt strange swirling in his spark. Lightning-like tendrils burst out of the crystal to bury themselves into Drift’s chamber and Wing felt a light tug in his spark as if something pulled at his spark gently. It didn’t hurt but it wasn’t a comfortable feeling either. It was like there was something in there that didn’t belong there... but did at the same time.

That’s when the bi-colored mech’s optics lit like two torches in the darkest time of night. His body arched as he gasped loudly and rather violently, energon in his vents rattling and sputtering.

Everyone around, except for Dai Atlas, gawked in shock and Redline shot a glare at him. The larger mech merely nodded towards Drift, gesturing the red and white mech to get to work and stabilize his patient for them to get him back to the city. Alive this time.

“I need help in transporting him back”, Redline said firmly, his medical protocols taking control to keep Drift stable enough. Two large flyers came to him carrying a stretcher. They lowered the stretcher and ever so carefully lifted Drift on it and picked it up. The grounder groaned quietly at the shifting and rocking the two mechs caused as they hurried back towards the city. He was accompanied by Redline and Wing – the medic to scan and monitor his state and Wing to keep the Sword on giving the energy for his spark.

“Please, hurry”, the medic ordered.

“Yes, sir”, was the reply.

Drift wandered between conscious and unconscious and Wing tried to keep him awake by talking to him. “How do you feel?”

The bi-colored mech didn’t answer for a while. “Like a metrotitan had danced on top of me”, he finally said wearily, flashing a small smile.

“That’ll be changed soon”, Redline replied and gave a smile of his own.

\----

Wing stood outside the medbay, watching intently how Redline and his staff did their all to keep Drift alive, various tubes and cables attached to the grounder’s body that connected him to numerous monitors and machines. One of the monitors showed his spark beat to be stable and steady. A wave of relief washed over the white mech – he knew Drift was going to be all right. He trusted Redline. He was the best medic there was.

Several hours later and the red and white mech finished the operation, satisfied with himself and his staff. He thanked the others and left the operation theater to write down some reports, leaving his assistants to clean up. But before that, he went to have a word with Wing.

“He’s all right and he’s being moved to the recovery unit. You may go see him but he won’t be awake for a long while”, the medic said, his field filled with warmth. He was aware how much Wing cared for Drift.

“How long will he be staying here?” the knight asked, clearly concerned.

“Considering the extent and severity of his injuries, at least a month. I can’t afford letting him out any sooner if his spark chamber is to collapse under stress”, Redline explained, his field rippling with apology. The gentle probe was returned with understanding and Wing nodded.

This was going to be a long month...

\----

“I suppose you’re willing to let him stay now”, Axe said from the couch in Dai Atlas’ hab suite as he read a data pad.

The larger mech didn’t reply, instead he stared out the window.

“You saw Wing back there. Exiling Drift would only end up in the same result. Just give the lad a chance”, the dark mech retorted carefully. “Not to mention Wing going after him...”, he added under his breath.

“I’ve given Drift enough chances and every time they’ve been wasted”, Dai Atlas growled, still facing the window.

“Perhaps this time the lad has wised up and truly tries to live up to your expectations. If not for you then at least for Wing”, Axe replied, a hopeful smile on his face, “Those two have become fond of each other as of late now that I think about it.”

“It won’t last.”

“How do you know?”

“They’re too different.”

“Maybe but two opposites attract each other. You’ll have to accept that fact at some point.” That ended the conversation and Axe continued reading his data pad.

\----

Drift woke on the third day after the operation and asked for Wing as the jet wasn’t there right then with him. Wing came rushing the second he heard the bi-colored mech is awake.

“Hi”, was the drowsy greet from Drift, happy to see Wing.

“Hello.”

The white mech sat down on the stool already placed next to the berth and closed one of Drift’s hands between his own, kissing the fingers. The simple but intimate gesture sent nice flutters to the grounder’s spark.

“You were worried...” Drift said, his voice gruff.

“Of course I was. You died. I thought I’d never see you again”, the knight admitted, nuzzling the warm hand he was holding.

Drift felt a sharp sting of quilt in his spark. He hadn’t thought his reckless actions and desire to leave this city would cause so much worry to Wing. After all, Wing was the second mech in his whole life ever to be kind to him. And this was how he’d pay that willingly offered kindness back? By sneaking out and getting himself killed (and resurrected back)? Way to go, Drift.

“I... uh... I’m sorry”, he mumbled, his field pulled tightly against his body in shame.

Wing stood up and leaned over Drift, sealing their lips into the gentlest kiss imaginable.

“You have no idea how glad I am”, he murmured.

\----

Every day Wing would be sitting beside Drift’s medical berth either reading him something, occasionally singing some old song or just being there with the grounder.

But on the long run, it was getting lonely in his apartment, especially during the nights when there wasn’t a warm body to curl up against. And a whole month alone... without the other’s touch... Needless to say it was frustrating to spend a month in involuntary celibacy. Drift would have to make up for this.

\----

Finally came the day Redline flashed Drift the green light to depart the medbay but not before the medic had performed a throughout inspection for any complications. When there wasn’t any the grounder was free to leave.

Wing was waiting outside the medbay to pick him up and was feeling almost giddy with excitement. Drift stepped out and was closed into a warm embrace which was returned stiffly with embarrassment. The white mech chuckled against his neck and let go, his field brushing against Drift’s, checking everything was all right.

“Are you ready to go home?” he asked, his hands on the other’s shoulders.

“Yeah.”

\----

They had ended up on the berth with Drift lying on top of Wing, the grounder’s head tugged under the other mech’s chin.

“It’s good to have you back”, Wing whispered as he rubbed one of Drift’s finials, earning a deep purr from him, his biolights enhancing the meaning of his words by making soothing, flowing patterns of yellow and red.

The room was dim, the darkness a calming contrast to the biolights. There was relaxing music playing in the background that only helped Drift to melt against the other. He had gone through one whole month without proper touch from Wing and now he was ought to take back the damage.

“Missed you”, he mumbled against the neck, his own biolight pulsing with his sparkbeat, slow and serene, matching hues of yellow and red. He nuzzled further in as if someone was trying to yank him away from Wing’s embrace.

“I missed you, too”, the jet trilled back, his lips soft against Drift’s crown. He felt the grounder’s pelvic area heating up. Apparently he missed Wing in _that_ way, too. That elicited a smile on Wing’s lips. He was completely honest with himself; he had missed Drift sexually. Although masturbating took care of the direst need, it couldn’t be compared to the sensation of another body shifting, sliding, writhing against yours. And that thought stirred Wing’s systems alive, his own area gradually getting warmer.

“Why did you do it?” Wing asked all of a sudden after a long stretch of silence despite the suppressed excitement between them.

“Did what?”

“Why did you go to the Slavers?”

Drift’s field was drawn tightly against his body, clamped and shut down. “They made me an offer. One that could’ve gotten me free”, he admitted, shame seeping into his field.

“At what cost?” the white mech insisted, clearly disappointed and sad for the fact Drift hadn’t learnt anything during his stay here.

“The city for my freedom”, the grounder rumbled and when he heard the sad sigh Wing vented, he quickly added, “But I didn’t promise them anything. I didn’t mean what I said. I... I just... I made them think I’d do it.”

“So you lied?”

Ouch. The harsh tone in Wing’s voice was like a stab to Drift’s spark and he remained silent. “How do I know you’re not lying right now? How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

The bi-colored mech flinched at those words, mentally curling up around himself.

“You don’t”, was the quiet reply. There was no strength in Drift’s voice, no snide protest, no sarcasm, no... Just plain submission. He felt so bad for letting the other mech down. He made a move to get off but he was pulled back down, this time to be held even tighter than before, Wing’s arms wrapped around him.

“I understand why you did it. I do now and I think it’s noble in its own strange way but... Think about the casualties and the innocent victims that you’d leave behind”, the white mech said, his field trembling with unspoken plea.

“Every conflict has its casualties and victims and if achieving freedom requires victims, then...” He never finished the sentence so he let the words die, both of them knowing what would’ve come up next.

‘Then so be it.’

“Do you really think so?”

Drift snorted at that with a sad smile. “I have a war to fight, a war which could turn the future of our home. I fight for freedom. Wouldn’t you crave for revenge to those who had wronged you? Wouldn’t you be ready to help those in need?”

That got Wing to think for a moment.

“And even if it got you killed? Even if you wouldn’t be able to live to see the fruits of your effort? Would that be worth it?” he answered, his own pacifism rearing its head in his voice. “What about those who got killed in the progress? They’d never see or feel the freedom you fought for. Or are you so selfish you don’t care?”

“Wha–? I’m ready to sacrifice myself for our freedom!” the grounder snarled, propping himself up on his hands.

“Can’t you see how the war is effecting our people? The war has managed to turn our kin against itself! It shouldn’t be this way! It shouldn’t be two sides massacring each other! There must be another way!” Wing argued, pushing up to his elbows.

“There’s no other way! The Autobots won’t listen”, Drift rumbled, clearly done of arguing if the agitated pulse in his field was anything to go by.

Wing sighed, tired himself, too. Try to speak sense about the redundancy of war to a mech who had had hard life filled with struggles and who had lived almost his whole life without feeling true freedom...

“Wouldn’t it be worth it to give it a shot?”

Drift sighed deeply, his head hanging between his arms, a sign he was done and won’t argue anymore. “Donno. I don’t... know anymore...” He let himself be pulled into an embrace once again, settling comfortably on the mech under him.

“I... know you mean good by what you’re doing but... I think you just have the wrong methods...” Wing murmured.

“Shut up.”

With that, Drift sealed their lips together, growling as he did so. That sparked his desire anew, grinding his pelvis against Wing’s. Moaning into the kiss, he made his intentions clear, his hands roaming down the jet’s sides.

The bi-colored mech’s panel slid aside, revealing his glistening valve, willingly offered.

“Drift...” Wing whispered, his hands wandering past the dark hips, around his aft and eventually reaching their destination. He probed the entrance for a moment before sinking two fingers in, chirping reassuringly as he felt the other tense above him. While his other hand was busy with the valve, his free hand travelled further down until his fingers were greeted by a slightly swollen anterior node.

Starting to rub the node, the knight basked in the honor of Drift letting him give him pleasure. The choked moans right next to his audio were enough for him to free his spike, the small lines of biolights along the shaft pulsating in anticipation.

The white mech prepared the valve well, pumping his fingers in and out the valve until he heard a impatient whimper and pulled them out to align his spike to push in, spreading the lips apart, forcing the mesh walls to adjust to a bigger girth. They gasped in unison at the sensation of being filled and enveloped by heat.

Wing gave the other mech time to get used to his size. After all, it’s been about a month since either of them had any kind of intercourse so every move and act measured.

“Go”, the grounder grunted, tilting his hips for better access.

The jet placed his hands on Drift’s hips and started pulling out only to thrust back in gently, shivering how easy it was – Drift was really turned on. He set a pace that felt so good for both of them, the spike gliding over every sensor cluster and node it could find within the valve, brushing against them to drive the bi-colored mech’s charge higher. This was what they needed; to feel the other in every way.

Drift rocked and shifted with Wing, the rhythm slow and satisfying. Moans and whimpers and whispering filled the room, though the music not forgotten. Fields melded together, both of them wanting to give everything they had to the other, show how much they needed, missed the other.

The surrounding world faded away around Drift and all that mattered was the mech with him, sharing the pleasure. He moaned Wing’s name and Wing did likewise, Drift’s name coming out in a high keen. He felt a tight knot forming in his belly, a swirling fire in his valve, waiting to be released.

Eventually the knot opened, a wave of great relief washing over them both, the feeling so overwhelming it left Drift shivering and gasping. Wing purred, his hands stroking along Drift’s back, lulling him into a deep recharge. The knight pulled out slowly and closed their panels – cleaning could wait until morning.

\----

Wing was the first one to wake up. He snuggled closer to the mech in his arms, humming in contentment and enjoying the warmth radiating from their bodies. Eventually, he decided to get a cube and managed to pry Drift’s arms around his waist so that he didn’t wake him. He got up to fetch his morning energon and when he came back, he saw Drift cocooned in a blanket, snoozing.

The white mech sat on the berth and scooted backwards until his back rested against the headboard and took a data pad to kill time.

Rolling in his sleep, Drift ended up flush against Wing’s right leg, face nuzzled against the skirting panels, one arm flung over a thigh and a leg draped over a shin. The movement ceased for a brief moment before a head plopped on his lap, the finials scraping his stomach. Wing smiled in a way that warmed even the coldest and the darkest day, his hand landing on one of the finials, rubbing it.

It was well past the noon until Drift gave off signs of waking up, gripping the leg tighter and stretching his legs.

“Did you recharge well?” Wing chuckled, not stopping the petting the finial.

“Didn’t know I was that exhausted”, was the groggy reply, the deep purr audible in the words.

A comfortable silence fell in the room, the quiet whirr of Drift’s onlining systems and the steady hum of Wing’s being the only sound.

“I want you to know how much you mean to me... How dear you’ve become to me...” the white mech spoke up, breaking the silence, though the relaxed atmosphere remaining.

“I think I already know that”, Drift said and pressed even closer to the other mech.

**Author's Note:**

> Blergh. This didn't come out as well as I had hoped... Well, better luck next time.


End file.
